Back to life, back to reality. No not me still enjoying the Soul II Soul gig I went to in December but the madness of the holiday period is over. So here we are in 2017 and after a busy chrimbo of doing fuck all followed along with loads to eat and drink (Though I did have one night off the ale during the holiday period) feeling (And possibly looking like) Jabba The Hutt I dragged myself into 2017 with our traditional New Years Eve party. The kids as ever were spoilt rotten. Well me I got some nice vinyl records but my best present was some Breaking Bad socks. On first look I thought ahh boss some Blues Brothers socks but apparently its some geezer from Breaking Bad. Who I don’t know as I have never watched an episode in my life. Thanks to the mother in law for them and I await my random 2017 socks. Well it all started on Chrimbo Eve as I headed into town for the traditional last minute shop and bevy. Luckily I only had chrimbo cards to get and I met The Fay’s (No relation !) in the Carnarfon Castle. It was then onto some friends we know from the school run and I was served up a mighty bit of homemade sausage roll. No better way to start the holidays. As if my magic my last can of Lynx deodorant ran out on Chrimbo Eve morning and stocks were replenished on Chrimbo day and enough to last me until early spring. Tucked up for 21:40 I awaited santa to visit. I love chrimbo me !
6.30am and we are up. Kids spoilt rotten and having chocolate for breakfast. No white christmas and not far off shorts temperatures ! Lucky it was chrimbo as when settling down for my world record early in bed Chrimbo eve one of my
little bastard children darling cherubs had snapped an earphone socket in my iPad this rendering it in permanent earphone mode. Even I couldn’t bollock them on chrimbo morning. Walking the dog just before 8am and a woman was out jogging. Obviously she must have got a Garmin watch for chrimbo. Well me I have already got one and have a strict no exercise period over chrimbo though you do acquire quite a few steps gong the fridge and back. It was my sisters this year for a mighty fine burger and chips and walking up to hers I noticed the police helicopter out over the south end of Liverpool. It seems the good residents of Liverpool wanted to tale their brand new scrambler bikes out for a ride. lets hope the fucking things have been crushed by Easter. So it was about 18:26 that I estimated I was going to burst on chrimbo day and that full and tired I laid off the grog and ended up driving home letting Mrs Fay enjoy christmas in full.
Boxing Day started with Mrs Fay in floods of tears (Ok I might have stretched that point a tiny bit) as we were met with the bombshell death of George Michael. Even sadder news was that I could not find my “Make It Big” vinyl which proudly had Neil Fay on to make sure I got it back from the school and play scheme disco’s it went to. News also that the Queen was “Pat and Mick” she couldnt could she (No) After claiming the Frozen Junior Monopoly titles to the two games of Uno I had already won. Daddy Fay was doing great in the Chrimbo games olympics. Boxing Day Ended with me Tweeting “Anybody died for the Christmas hat-trick” Sadly Nana Royle made it 3 in 3.
27th and all over with, thank fuck for that and out for a bevy with the lads at Ghetto Golf in the old Cains Brewery. Cracking place and nailed a few beers as 9 of us played and it went to a play off with my mate Colin winning the inaugural Christmas Crazy Golf tournament and he walked away with the new trophy. The rest of the day was a blur and hazy memories of dancing with Japanese tourists in Flares on Mathew Street sums up what kind of day and night it was.
So New Years Eve and a party in ours. The newly opened Fay’s bar was doing great business and you had to have your official Fay’s bar wristband to get served. My new trio of shorts optics had been taking some hammering over the festive period with a choice of Bombay Gin, London Gin or Smirnoff Vodka. Just for the purpose of documenting this on record the Smirnoff Vodka won easily having to be replaced.
So the party fizzled out about 3am. There was the normal “Ooops up side your head” , singing in the street and ever had a robot as a special guest and some neighbours came in for a bevy and a selection of great choons as picked by myself though the kids did get 30 mins for what seemed like a Little Mix mega-mix. Dare I say it I even woke up with a slight hangover in 2017. Those pesky double vodka’s and Irn Bru !!
So a couple of days to gear up for getting back to life and back to reality and I had decided to hit the wagon until I go away with the lads to the Isle of Man on 17th Feb. The day was improved by the official Micheal Jackson (Blue tick and all) Twitter account wishing me a happy new year. I am assuming George Michael is still getting to grips with tweeting from the dead but next year George I expect a pick me up “Happy new year” tweet from you. One reply to MJ’s tweet was “Thanks King” and another “The world is BAD we miss you King” one can only assume these people are still pissed from the new year celebrations. I could go on all day with the replies but I will leave you with “Hey MJ how is Prince (Not your son) doing?” funny enough the official MJ Twitter account did not give us an update on (A) Prince or (B) Prince son of MJ. I was going to tweet “How are my Mum, Dad and Nan oh king of pop” but due to the sheer number of replies MJ got I worked out it would be about March until he replied and I couldnt be arsed waiting that long.
New year, new me and new adverts and that time of year when you start a magazine subscription that ends up costing you £6000 to make a scale model of the Titanic or other shite. Me I was saving my money and ploughing through watching Prisoner Cell Block H on youtube (Now on Episode 272) and it was time for work on Tuesday. Don’t know what’s more depressing being back at work or standing on the scales !! I spotted a great meme that went along the lines of “Don’t be using christmas as an excuse you have always been a fat cunt” Work eve was rounded off with me thinking If you think footballers are overpaid some fat bald fella has just won £350,000 for playing darts. Hope for me yet.
So work hitting me like a sledgehammer and the holidays now seem like a lifetime away as you soon get into the groove of bastard life. The usual diet isn’t going great and the on the wagon crashed as I poured myself a double vodka and diet Irn Bru (Note the diet) to help me craft this fine bit of writing. I seem to be doing a lot of poo’s in 2017. Wonder if its the switch to brown bread ?
So 2017 and not a mention of Brexit or Trump though I did venture into the world of celebrity death that at the end of the day means jack shit to us and a chance to bang a greatest hits on Spotify or watch and old film/tv series. As for my 2016 well I will review that in my next blog.
I wont wish you happy new year as 2017 is flying past la and it’s nearly February.
Fay x x x x x x x x